


The Emerald Rooms

by sparkeythehamster



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Derogatory Language, M/M, Nightclub, Protective Joseph Chandler, Undercover, discussions of historical sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkeythehamster/pseuds/sparkeythehamster
Summary: A string of murders in the Soho District have caught the attention of Joseph Chandler and his team. Obtaining special permission to investigate outside of Whitechapel they begin their investigation of a string of strangulation cases.However, Joe notices Kent's odd behaviour and the way the younger man is making attempts to avoid him. He knows that it needs to be addressed, but it also bothers him that everyone else on the team seems to know more about it than he does.
Relationships: Joseph Chandler/Emerson Kent
Comments: 23
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As the story is from Chandler's perspective it only makes sense to me to use his first name.

The white plastic suit did very little to keep out the autumn chill as it whistled and swept around them, throwing the freshly fallen leaves into an excitable dance around their feet. The crime scene was the apartment building standing before them, an unassuming three-floor building with sixteen permanent residents registered with the landlord.

“Ready?” Miles fired a short glance in his direction, his own figure obscured by the same layers of clinical plastic that Joseph Chandler had become so accustomed to over the years he’d been working as a DI.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

This was the second body that had been discovered within a week, the same modus operandi and demographic as the previous victim. A woman in her mid-twenties and attractive. The last victim had been strangled with a pair of tights that had not belonged to her, left to be found in her bedroom when her flatmate returned. Both bodies had been found in the Soho district of London, a location normally outside of their jurisdiction, but Chandler had managed to pull a few strings to get it assigned to them. It sounded a little ridiculous, but he was hopeful that taking on a murder outside of their usual territory might somehow break this string of bad luck they’d been experiencing. It was bad for moral, and Joe had seen the effects that the stress had been having on his team.

To Joe’s great relief the team did seem to be pulling together at last. Whatever it was that Kent and Mansell had been dealing with seemed to have sorted itself out, and both Miles and Riley were a lot more relaxed than they had been a few months prior. Everything was pulling in the right direction; they just needed a win.

A member of the forensics team opened the door for him and his sergeant, indicating the route towards the staircase. Slabs had carefully been placed along the floor, marking out a pathway they could follow without disturbing any possible evidence.

The victim, a woman named Sharon Templeton, lived on the first floor in apartment 2B. She was twenty-seven years old and had been discovered dead in her bed by her boyfriend. He had called in the murder at 5am. It was now 6am and most of the team had arrived. Riley was outside with the boyfriend, and when Joe and Miles arrived on the first floor they found Mansell already waiting outside the apartment door.

“Where’s Kent?” Frowning, Joe paused, glancing between Mansell and Miles. Usually the young DC arrived quickly and promptly, sometimes even before Joe himself. Honestly, he’d expected to find him sitting outside where Mansell was now.

Mansell gave a small non-committal shrug, while Miles pushed on through the door. “I’m sure he’ll be here eventually” the older man assured him in a calm but practical fashion, reminding Joe that they were supposed to be focusing on the dead woman and what Llewellyn had to say on the matter.

Looking quite exhausted, Llewellyn gave a wide yawn as she turned to wave them towards the bedroom where it looked like she’d already been hard at work. It had been Miles’ request that they work with their normal SOCO team rather than Soho’s ‘grunts’, as he had put it.

“Same as the last victim” Llewellyn told them. “There are defensive wounds on her hands and wrists. The killer most likely straddled her waist to keep her pinned down while he wrapped the tights around her neck and strangled her.” She motioned with her finger to the painful looking bruises that could be seen around the edges of the dark tights that had been locked ruthlessly around her neck. “I’ll have to take her back to the lab before I can tell you anything more, but I would hazard a guess that this was the same killer, and that strangulation was the cause of death.”

Miles hummed in acknowledgement, resting his gloved hand over Llewellyn’s shoulder. “Thanks. You look dead on your feet, are you sure there’s no one that can cover. I know what it’s like dealing with a new baby in the first few months.”

She chuckled, giving small shake of her head. “Don’t worry about me, the baby’s fine and starting to settle into a more regular sleeping pattern, in a few weeks I’ll be right as rain.”

It was common knowledge around the office that Llewellyn had given birth to a little girl very recently, and it had been a surprise to them all when she started returning part time to work after only a month of maternity leave. But it was good to have her, Joe had struggled a little with her temporary replacement who tended to chew gum while he was talking them during his post-mortems.

“Well better late than never.” Turning his head at the sound of Mansell’s teasing voice, Joe spotted Kent by the front door in the other room. He was glaring in Mansell’s direction, but in a light enough way that Joe decided it wasn’t any cause for alarm.

“I got held up by the traffic, the buses leading up to Covent Gardens are a death trap on a scooter.” He was smiling, but from this angle Joe couldn’t help but notice that his face was ever so slightly paler than usual, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

About to comment on Kent’s lateness with the aim of seeking out an explanation, Joe felt a hand on his lower arm stop him mid-turn.

“Anything else you can tell us?” Miles was addressing Llewellyn, but it was definitely his hand that had stopped Joe leaving the room. He sought out the older detective attention with a questioning glance, but Miles ignored him, continuing to behave as if nothing had happened.

Llewellyn tutted softly to herself as she glanced the dead girl over once more. “I would place the time of death between midnight and three this morning, and she spent some time on her feet beforehand, most likely in uncomfortable shoes, the blisters on her feet are fairly fresh.” She tilted her head apologetically, “I wouldn’t want to comment on anything else until I’ve properly examined her.”

Smiling gratefully, Miles nodded his head. “You’re a star as always Claire, give your family my best.”

Finally, Miles released him, allowing them to return to the main room. Kent and Mansell were no longer in there. They were most likely outside, helping Riley and the uniformed officers enforce the perimeter around the street.

“What was that earlier?” A little annoyed, Joe moved to block off the route Miles was taking towards the door, “Stopping me earlier?”

His sergeant raised his eyebrows. “Why? Was there something important you needed to say to DC Kent?” Miles’ tone was casual, questioning something it sounded like he already knew the answer to.

“I wanted to know why he was late to the scene.” Surely it was his job to question the punctuality of his officers, and if Miles had a bee in his bonnet about something, Joe would rather know about it now. He was expecting Miles to dodge the question or make some sarcastic remark, but instead the older officer let out a long sigh.

“We’ve only just got the team back to rights, you storming over there and scolding the kid over something that was most likely bad traffic could knock the whole thing off kilter again.” He raised his hands defensively, as if sensing Joe’s indignant response. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t discipline the ranks when they do something wrong but turning up late to work once or making a simple mistake shouldn’t warrant the Spanish Inquisition.” Expression softening, Miles gave him a reassuring smile, “Come on, we should take a look around.”

They carefully explored the living space, searching for anything out of the ordinary, or something that might give them a good idea of where to start like a connection between the two victims.

The flat was fairly ordinary, a clean open space with two bedrooms and a bathroom leading into the small but practical open floor plan of the main room. Ordinary magazines, a small collection of books and DVDs, washed plates in the drying wrack and a single unwashed mug in the sink.

“Perhaps we might get more from the boyfriend.” About to call it, Joe was interrupted by the return of Kent to the flat. The younger man paused when he entered, glancing around until he spotted them. “Uniform want to know how long they should hold the barrier, and the residents are asking when they’ll be allowed back into their rooms…” Stopping abruptly, Kent’s eyes swivelled in the direction of the SOCO officers retreating slowly from the bedroom with the murdered woman laid out across the stretcher. “That’s… I know her…”

Joe and Miles exchanged a quick glance, and this time Miles didn’t stop him from inquiring further.

“How do you know her?” Concerned for how this might compromise their case, but excited that it might give them a new angle to pursue, Joe crossed the room towards Kent. The Detective Constable startled a little upon seeing him approach, taking a small, and Joe assumed unconscious, step back.

Shaking his head quickly, Kent clarified. “I mean, I saw her a few times when I was out clubbing in this area with friends. We might have chatted once or twice, but I don’t really know her.” The younger man moved again, putting more space between them. “I recognised her face, but I don’t think we ever exchanged names.” His pale face darkened a little, “She was a bit of a flirt from what I remember, talked to nearly all the guys.”

It didn’t look like he was lying and nothing he knew seemed like it would be of any particular use to them. Just the impression of a stranger, and they couldn’t go round basing their investigation on something like that. Besides, Kent definitely did not know the first victim meaning it was unlikely there was any connection there.

“Right.” Trying not to sound too disappointed, Joe thought over the logistics in his head. “Tell uniform they can open the streets in half an hour, that should give SOCO time to clear up, keep an officer on this door, but other tenants can be permitted back inside once forensics have left.”

Nodding, Kent withdrew again, the sound of his footsteps thudding on the stairs as he returned to the front of the building.

“We can start planning things out back at the station, best get everyone back.” Stretching out his arms and giving a yawn of his own, Miles led the way to the front door after Kent. “I’ll tell uniform to set the boyfriend up in one of the interview rooms.”

Outside, Kent and Riley were dealing with the boyfriend, a man called Harry Stratton.

“You look familiar” Stratton was commenting, head tilted to one side as he examined Kent carefully. “You into the nightlife around here?”

Kent nodded, “Yeah. I’m not in this area that often but that new place that opened got my friend’s attention, so we’ve all been around here the last couple of weeks.”

This exchange seemed to collaborate Kent’s story about not really knowing the murdered woman or her boyfriend, but Joe wanted to make absolutely sure. The last thing they needed at such a crucial time was a hiccup in the investigation process that compromised them somewhere down the road.

He caught Miles’ eye and saw the other man shaking his head, but Joe ignored him. Miles was worrying too much, like he always did.

“Kent.” He summoned the other man with a small nod, waiting as Kent dipped his head to Stratton and nodded in response to something Riley had said, before wandering in a loose and uncertain manner towards the place where Joe was standing near the building’s front door.

“Sir?” Kent’s voice only lilted slightly in the form of a question, his eyes set firmly on a point just beyond Joe’s shoulder, body language stiff but professional. Whatever Miles said, Joe was certain that there was something going on with Kent, and the last thing he wanted was for it all to spill over into a brawl in the middle of the incident room again.

“I just wanted to ask formally whether you knew the victim or her boyfriend in a way that might compromise your subjectivity in this case?” That sounded professional enough, Miles couldn’t criticise him for following procedure, and Kent did not look particularly alarmed or upset by the question.

The younger man shook his head. “No sir, it’s just as I said. I misspoke earlier when I said I _knew_ the victim, I just meant that I’d seen her face before.”

Nodding, Joe decided to press just once more. He didn’t doubt that Kent was telling the truth, but it was always better to be thorough with these things rather than simply taking someone’s word. “Are you absolutely sure, because if you are at all involved with either the victim or those she associated with, it may compromise the strength of our case.”

Beyond Kent’s shoulder, Joe saw Miles bringing a hand slowly up to cover his face.

Kent tensed, his mouth tightening into a frown. “No sir. However, if you think that me recognising the victim might cause a problem then you can remove me from the case.” There was a sharpness to his words and tone. Not enough to be called rude, but there was an intended jab somewhere that Joe didn’t like.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” If Kent really was telling the truth then there was no reason to remove him from the case for such a thing. “Get back to the station with the others.”

Nodding his head, Kent turned with a simple “Yes sir” unhooking his helmet from the railings, moving swiftly and directly to where he’d left his scooter only a little way off near to where the cars were parked.

Riley and Mansell who had been looking in their direction, quickly turned their gazes away as soon as Joe made eye contact, continuing with their conversations or duties in a hurried manner. Miles, however, was still looking at him with an expression that suggested nothing less than total exasperation.

“Have you already forgotten what I said fifteen minutes ago?”

Feigning ignorance and doing his best to fight back against the uncomfortable feeling squirming at the bottom of his stomach, Joe turned and began moving quickly in the direction of his own car. “I was following procedure.”

“I agree, but did you have to question him three times? If Kent says he didn’t know the victim, then he didn’t know her.” He stopped just short of the car as Joe pulled open the door. “Look,” his tone was calm again, almost soothing, as if he were talking to a difficult child. “Sometimes… just sometimes you are a little tough on the kid. On occasion he deserves a good talking to, I warrant that, but you need to pick your battles.”

“I’m no tougher on Kent than I am on anybody else on my team” Joe replied shortly. “I would have asked any of you the same question under the circumstances.”

The response Miles gave him was a look of disbelief, but Joe really didn’t want to deal with this right now. If Kent was being overly sensitive then that was his problem, he was a full-grown man and he should be able to deal with these things in a mature way.

Starting the engine of his car, Joe gripped the steering wheel under his hands tightly. Miles was being ridiculous, he’d shouted at Mansell plenty of times, and the only reason he hadn’t scolded Riley was because she’d never given him any reason to. Kent with his stubbornness, prejudice and secrecy just frustrated him. He was such a promising young detective, but he was constantly jeopardising his own future with his immaturity. It would be a greater crime to leave that unchecked than to allow it to fester and run rampant.

He wouldn’t let Miles get into his head with this. Kent had grown a lot over the last few years, and Joe was certain that his guidance had something to do with that. Perhaps in another year Kent would be ready to sit the sergeant’s exam, and that would be down to the training that Joe had provided.

Turning a little more violently than usual out onto the main road, Joe caught himself and took a deep breath. Either Kent could take it, or he couldn’t, there was nothing personal about it.

“Nothing personal” he muttered to himself before putting all thoughts of DC Kent from his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

First to arrive back at the station, Joe made the basement his first point of call, hoping that Ed would have something that could be of use to him by now. He’d left the crime historian with instructions looking for anything related to strangulation with tights or any other sort of clothing. This apparently generated a much longer list of files than Joe had originally been expecting, so Ed was doing his best to narrow them down into the most relevant and useful.

Knocking before entering, he peered round into the dank and crowded archive, manoeuvring around the towering pile of boxes to the desk where Ed was concentrating on the contents of an open file. He startled a little when he glanced up and spotted Joe standing in front of him.

“Joe!” He yelped, clambering to his feet, “I didn’t hear you come in.” He motioned vaguely to the seat in front of him which was laden heavily with sheets of paper and unopened files. Joe chose to remain standing, offering the other man a quick smile.

“Anything?” Eager to get straight to the point as he knew the rest of the team would be back soon, Joe scanned his eyes over the open files on Ed’s desk, attempting to get an impression of what avenue the archivist was about to take them down.

With an enthusiastic grin on his face, Ed pulled a brown file off his desk and squeezed around it to stand at Joe’s side as presented the folder. “World War Two” he began dramatically, “The Blitz weighed heavy in the skies over London, and blackouts had become the new norm. People locked away in their houses or taking shelter in the bunkers, the streets as dark as they had been in during the reign of Queen Victoria.”

“Ed.” Joe was warning the other man to get to the point, but he couldn’t help the way his expression lit up with fond amusement at the other man’s antics.

Blinking apologetically, Ed opened the file and skimmed the first few lines. “The Blackout Ripper a.k.a. Gordon Cummins, murdered at least four women in the Soho district of London, possibly more. Each victim was strangled with either a pair of silk stockings or a scarf during 1942.”

Focusing on the points that held relevance, Joe took the file and began skimming through it himself. “You said Gordon Cummins, I take that to mean they caught him?” That was hope at least, this time they weren’t chasing any parallels with an unsolved case.

The shorter man nodded. “Yes. With the exception of the first victim who was found in an air raid shelter, all the women were found dead in their own homes. Prostitutes that Cummins paid to lead him back to their apartments, assaulting them in the most egregious ways before strangling them to death.”

His previous excitement draining away, Joe lowered the file. “There was no evidence that the first victim was sexually assaulted, and Llewelyn made no mention of it with the second either.” They couldn’t afford to waste time chasing the ghosts of the past, besides, “There’s nothing to suggest either of the women were prostitutes either.”

Ed did not look at all dissuaded. “As you’re always reminding me, we’re not looking for exact replicas. What I can tell you from the files I’ve studied is that strangulation of this nature usually has sexual motivations, something that your murderer considers to be very personal. On the 27th of April 1942, Gordon Cummins was executed for his crimes, insisting on his innocence till his final breath.”

“And was he? Innocent I mean?” Joe still remembered the stories of John Williams, the man arrested for the Ratcliffe Highway murders.

In this case however, there seemed to be little doubt in Ed’s mind as he shook his head. “Oh no, Cummins was guilty.” He tapped his fingers against the file again, “What you should be asking yourself based on the Blackout Ripper case is, how did the murderer get into the apartments? Was he invited? And why did he choose to strangle the women in their own beds with a pair of tights?”

He was right, this had given them some new leads to follow, or at least led them in the direction of the right questions to ask. “Thank you Ed.” Tucking the file under his arm, Joe retreated out from the archiver and hurried back up the stairs to the incident room.

Finding that the others had already gathered behind their desks, he roused them all to their feet as he began writing out Ed’s queries on the whiteboard.

“Go on then” Miles prompted, “What idea has Buchan given you?”

Continuing to write, Joe recalled the story of the Blackout Ripper, making sure to highlight the ways in which their case was similar, while dismissing the details that were not particularly relevant.

“Remember, we aren’t dealing with a copycat, just a string of similarities that might give us a head start on stopping the killer. Kent you said Sharon Templeton was flirtatious when you met her, is there any chance she might have been taking men home with her?”

Looking a little taken aback at having been addressed, Kent hesitated before raising his shoulders uncertainly. “I couldn’t say for sure. She umm… she lost interest in me very quickly.”

“I bet she did” Mansell smirked, grinning playfully at Kent who rolled his eyes in response. “Women have a way of… Ow!” Riley had just kicked him under the table, and as Mansell probably deserved it, Joe pushed on.

“It could explain how her killer got into the flat, we’ll follow that line of questioning while interviewing the boyfriend. Ed might be right; we shouldn’t dismiss a sexual motivation until we have the lab results back.” He took a moment to flick through the file in his arms, studying the earlier events of the Blackout Ripper’s crimes. “Kent, Mansell go back to Soho and see if you can find out if any other women have been attacked in the area, and Riley see if you can find anything that connects our two victims.” He motioned to Miles to follow him, the two of them would handle the interview.

He passed by Kent and Mansell who were pulling on their jackets, turning his head just slightly in their direction as Mansell offered to drive them with a comment about taking care of his future baby-brother-in-law.

“It’s good to see those two are getting on better” Miles smiled, “I was worried for a while a few months ago that we’d have to transfer one of them.”

It having just occurred to him that could have been an option, Joe hummed softly. “Why didn’t we?”

“Because nowhere else would have Mansell” the sergeant chuckled, shooting a grin in Joe’s direction without even bothering to address why they wouldn’t even have considered moving Kent. It was true of course, but Joe wasn’t so certain about why Miles had chosen to punctuate it with a smirk.

Honestly, he was just confused now. One moment Miles was accusing him of being too hard on Kent, and the next he was implying that Joe wouldn’t have considered for a moment transferring him when the trouble with Mansell had been going on. This was a conversation that they’d have to have later on, Joe was going to be very firm on the matter. However, they were already coming up to the door marked ‘Interview Room 3’, and they needed to strategize before barging in.

The plan was simple. Determine the boyfriend’s whereabouts last night, preferably with an alibi to corroborate, and assess whether there was any likelihood that his girlfriend had been bringing other men back to their flat.

“Mr. Stratton” Joe greeted, dropping down into the seat opposite. There was no reason to suspect the man yet, so they had placed him in one of the more comfortable rooms reserved for witnesses and family. “Can you tell me your whereabouts between twelve and five this morning?”

The younger man swallowed, glancing between the two detectives. “We were out last night at this new club called The Emerald Rooms. Sharon had a headache, so I took her back to the flat at about one, I was going to stay but she insisted that I go back and enjoy myself… so I left…” He swallowed, pressing the corner of his palms to his red and puffy eyes. “If I’d have just stayed… I could have protected her…”

Miles hung back, watching Stratton’s face carefully, while Joe took the lead with the questioning.

“Do you know anyone who could vouch for your whereabouts?”

Stratton nodded stiffly. “Steph and Tom Harris saw us leaving, and I went and re-joined them when I got back.” He sniffed again, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he blinked several times quite rapidly.

Making note of the names they’d been given, Joe moved on, pulling a photograph of the first victim, Jenny Stillwell from the file to place in front of Harry Stratton on the table. “Do you recognise this woman?”

Stratton looked, his head tilting to one side before he shook his head. “No… why?”

“She was murdered in the same manner as your girlfriend three nights ago” Joe told him, “Is there anyway that the two of them might have known each other?”

The other man shook his head. “She had friends I didn’t know about, but… what was her name?”

“Jenny Stillwell,” this time Miles responded, startling Stratton somewhat. But the man shook his head once more.

“I never heard her mention anyone by that name… I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful but…”

Hitting him with the final question, Joe got straight to the point. “Is there any chance that your girlfriend might have been having an affair or sleeping with other men?”

Eyes finally opening wide, Stratton gaped at him. “What?” He shook his head furiously, “No! We had a good relationship; she would never have done anything like that!”

Holding out a hand to calm him, Joe leant back in his chair. “Just routine questions Mr. Stratton. If you could give Mr and Mrs. Harris’ details to the desk sergeant on your way out that would be appreciated. We may be in touch again.”

Waiting as Miles held open to door, Joe flicked through his file again, considering the information they already had carefully. He waited until the door had closed again before speaking.

“I’m not the only one who thought he was lying about the affair?” Glancing back at Miles, he smiled at the confirming nod.

“Yeah, something’s definitely going on there. We’ll dig a little deeper into that when we get the chance.” He dropped down into the chair next to Joe, motioning for the file so he could take a look through himself. “Doesn’t mean he killed her, but even if his alibi does check out there’s still time unaccounted for when he took Sharon back to their flat. He could have killed her over the affair and then returned to the… what did he call it?”

Flicking through his notes, Joe read the name aloud, “The Emerald Rooms. Didn’t Kent say something about a new club in Soho, this could be it. Do you think there could be a connection?”

“Possibly, we’ll have to wait and see what Riley digs up, she’s pretty thorough with these things.” With a small degree of effort, Miles pulled himself back to his feet and motioned towards the door. “I’ll go tell Riley about the club, that way if it isn’t relevant we should be able to dismiss it early on. Coming?”

Shaking his head, Joe picked up the file Miles had discarded on the table. “In a minute, I just want to refresh myself with the first case, I’ll be along in a bit.”

The first victim was twenty-five-year old Jenny Stillwell. She worked in a company in the city and had been renting a flat in Soho for sixteen months, she’d lived with a flatmate and seemed to have plenty of friends who had all come forward to try and help when her body had been discovered. Like Sharon, she was young and pretty, and had been found dead in her bed with a pair of tights tied around her throat.

They needed to stop this killer before he escalated any further. Two victims were already two too many. This time Joe was determined, he was determined to catch this killer alive before any more people had to die.


	3. Chapter 3

Reconvening in the incident room after a quick breakfast in his office, Joe felt far more prepared to face the day ahead. The heating still hadn’t kicked in, so everyone was bundled up in their jackets and coats to keep off the chill, hands tucked underneath their arms when they weren’t in use.

“Harry Stratton’s alibi checks out, but there is still that one hour unaccounted for” Riley told them, one eye still on her computer. She was still waiting for an email on a possible connection between the victims.

Mansell nodded his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an effort to keep warm. “Me and Kent didn’t find anything about any local attacks either, knocked on nearly every door in Soho.”

So, no new leads from potential survivors, that was disappointing, but perhaps it had been too much to hope for. Joe was determined to stay positive, not just for his own sake, but for the sake of the team as well.

Thinking quickly for new avenues they could pursue; Joe was cut off by an excited ‘ah!’ from Riley. She dropped back down behind her desk, eyes flashing as they read over the words of an email she’d presumably just received. Judging by the grin on her face it was good news.

“Uniform asked around, Jenny Stillwell was also at The Emerald Rooms the night before she died.”

It was a funny thing police business. In any other social circle celebrating finding the connection between two murder victims would be seen as odd at best, but right here in the incident room it was as if a massive weight had been lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

Miles patted Riley on the back, while Mansell let out a rather childish whoop of excitement.

Not wanting to get too caught up in the moment, Joe forced himself to remember that this was a very loose lead at best, considering they were both from the Soho district perhaps it was just a coincidence that they’d been at the same club. But right now, it was all they had.

“Right, we’ll need to get down to the club and speak with the owners, examine the CCTV if we can.” Once they had a positive ID on the suspects they could pinpoint if anyone had followed them out, or if they left the club with anyone. Nice straight forward police work. “Miles if you…”

“Excuse me sir.” The room of detectives turned towards the door where a rather nervous looking PC was standing, she gave them an awkward smile before speaking. “There’s a woman at the front desk, says she has important information about the murder of Sharon Templeton, wants to speak to the officer in charge.”

Raising a hand, Joe stepped forward, “That’s me.” He nodded over to Kent, indicating for him to follow. “Miles can you contact the club and track down that CCTV.” Instructions left with Miles, Joe hurried after the uniformed officer with Kent trailing behind him. As eager as he was to hear what the person at the front desk had to say, he didn’t even think about Kent’s less than enthusiastic energy.

It was a woman standing at the front desk, fairly young, with a mess of frizzy brown hair. She gave Joe a quick once over when she spotted him approaching. “You in charge?”

“DI Chandler, I’m in charge of Miss Templeton’s case, yes. You said you had important information that could help us?” He held out his hand to shake hers, trying not to twitch as the feeling of sharp and uneven nails brushed against his thumb. The personal hygiene of some people still shocked him. How difficult was it to keep your nails properly trimmed and manicured? Releasing her hand, he motioned back to the detective hovering just beyond his shoulder. “This is DC Kent; he will be assisting me in your interview.”

Nodding to the desk sergeant to show that he was now responsible for the potential witness, he led her past the front desk and up the stairs towards the interview rooms.

“Tea? Biscuits?” Eager for her to be as comfortable as possible, Joe was already signalling to Kent to fetch the desired things before the woman had even spoken, but she shook her head firmly, crossing one leg over the other.

“I don’t want to mess about; I just want to tell you what I know. Sharon was my friend, and I’m not about to let that bastard get away with this.” The anger burned brightly, as she tightened her fists and fought back a look of fury. “My name is Lisa Eddings, and I know that Harry killed her. He’s always been a jealous prick, but I never really took it that seriously, maybe if I had done then…” She shook her head angrily. “Anyway, I know it’s him! Sharon wasn’t feeling well last night so he took her back to the apartment, and the next thing we hear she’s dead.”

Tilting his head to one side, aware that Kent had just taken up the seat next to him, Chandler considered her words carefully. It wasn’t anything new exactly, but she seemed to know more about the relationship between Sharon and her boyfriend than he’d been willing to let on.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, “Had Harry threatened her before?”

Lisa shook her head reluctantly. “No, not her, but I’ve heard him threaten plenty of other people. Last week she was talking with this lad at Opium and he grabbed her arm so hard that it bruised.” She sat back, the fight starting to leave her body, giving way to the stress that lay beneath. “She liked to flirt,” tears were starting to collect in Lisa’s eyes, “But it was just a bit of a laugh, she’d never actually cheat on Harry. God bless her soul, she loved him.”

Well that had definitely moved the boyfriend into the position of suspect number one. Joe had read in domestic abuse cases that the offender often threatened or used violence publically as well. What if Stratton had been having an affair with the first victim, he killed her perhaps because she was threatening to reveal him. Maybe afterwards Sharon found out and confronted him, so he killed her to. That would fit Buchan’s sexual angle and explain why the victims hadn’t actually been assaulted.

“What about Harry, was he the sort that might cheat?” Deciding to focus on this angle for now, Joe turned his head to see what Kent thought, but the other man was dutifully taking notes, his expression blank and disinterested as he made an account of everything Lisa was saying.

The young woman hesitated for a moment. “I couldn’t say… I didn’t know him very well. Sharon never said anything about it, but I’ve heard it said that people who suspect their spouses of cheating on them are often cheats themselves.”

Having also heard something to this effect a few years ago, Joe nodded. He waited a few seconds to see if there was anything else Lisa wanted to add, but she’d fallen silent.

Moving for the first time since the interview had started, Kent pushed the box of tissues towards her, smiling softly in silent sympathy before withdrawing back to his notes.

Calling in one of the duty officers to take care of Miss. Eddings, Joe left the room and waited for Kent to follow.

“Is everything okay?” He tried to sound understanding and calm, but his earlier conversation about Kent with Miles had set him a little on edge, and he was aware that his words might have come across a little bit more impatiently than he had intended. Something was wrong with Kent. He shouldn’t have let Miles bully him out of confronting him about it this morning. If he was sick then he needed to go home, and if it was something personal then he had to sort himself out.

He was expecting a look of guilt or embarrassment, the sort Kent usually gave him when he was challenged on his conduct, but instead he was met with that blank faced professional look that Kent had given him earlier outside the victim’s apartment.

“Have I done something wrong sir?” There it was again, the unfamiliar and distant tone that seemed to enforce some sort of wall between them, with the underlying current of something that Joe just couldn’t put his finger on.

Fighting to remain focused on the problem at hand and not Kent’s sudden change in attitude, Joe took a deep breath. “You turned up late to work this morning looking pale and unwell, and your attitude today has been…” What? How could he describe it? During moments where Kent had been working with someone else he’d looked the same as always, but the moment Joe tried to speak with him everything just seemed to shut down. “If you have a problem with me then I would like to hear it.”

Kent blinked, just once. “I don’t have a problem with you sir, I’m just a little tired. Has it compromised my work?”

“ _No sir. However, if you think that me recognising the victim might cause a problem then you can remove me from the case.”_

His tone mirrored that earlier statement perfectly, and once again Joe felt himself at a loss of how to respond, it was as if Kent were trying to bait him.

“No. But…” he hesitated, allowing his tone to drop into something softer concern mixing with frustration. “… Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and if you’re unwell just phone in and let us know.”

For one brief moment Kent looked up at him, eyes bright and warm, gazing at Joe with such admiration and hope, that it almost seemed like the old Kent had returned. But then mask of professionalism dropped once more, and Kent nodded his head. “Yes sir.”

Gut twisting uncomfortably, Joe realised how much he’d missed that expression. The one that had been there to support him when he’d first started working in the Whitechapel district, the expression on the face of a man who was ready to do anything to help bring the case to a satisfactory conclusion.

“Kent.” Before he’d really processed what he was doing, Joe reached forward to stop the other man from turning, bracing his hand against the other man’s forearm. They both looked down at the point of physical contact with shock, and Joe pulled back quickly, hand hovering hesitantly in the air for a few seconds before he found his voice again. “You… You usually have a theory at this point, what do you make of Lisa’s story?”

The younger man shrugged, his large eyes still darting back to the place where Joe had touched him. “We follow the clues, that’s our job…” he swallowed. The touch had clearly distressed him, and on top of everything else going on with Kent, Joe really didn’t want HR involved as well. If he could touch Riley on the arm like that, then surely he could touch one of his male colleagues in the same way without a fuss. But Kent straightened up, allowing his arm to drop. “In this case the clues seem to be leading back to the boyfriend so we should probably interview him again.”

Joe agreed but felt a surge of disappointment. Kent’s theories were often a little outrageous, and he had a tendency to accuse witnesses, but at least it was a fresh perspective that helped to keep the rest of them on their toes. This was a simple answer that anyone in uniform could have given them, hell, even Mansell would have had more to say on the matter.

Perhaps Kent really was just tired, and he shouldn’t press this.

“Should I call the boyfriend back in?” Kent was waiting for a reply.

“Right…” Joe nodded, “Yes, call him back in.”

The constable was gone without another word.

The back of Joe’s hand was itching, and an unpleasant sensation was running down the back of his neck. He knew there was nothing there, knew there couldn’t possibly be anything to set him off, but rationalisation did nothing to relieve the problem. He stopped by the bathroom on the way back to the office and changed his shirt, it made him feel a little better, and after washing his hands five times in the sink he was feeling much calmer.

“Any luck with the CCTV,” he checked in with Miles as soon as he got back to the office.

“I’ve sent Riley and Mansell down to have a look, they should be back with the tapes in…” he checked his watch, “Half an hour or so.”

Good… that gave them time to talk.

“Miles, something _is_ wrong with Kent, and I need to know if you know anything about it. I thought he was tired, but he seems to be fine when talking to everyone else.” He shook his head stubbornly, ready to challenge the sergeant if he tried to dissuade him again. “I’m not saying I’m angry with him, but if there’s an issue then it needs to be sorted before we go any further.”

He was expecting Miles to argue with him, or dismiss him again like before, but this time the older man just sighed. “You’ve changed your shirt… is it really bothering you that much?”

Joe didn’t answer, but Miles seemed to understand because with another shake of his head he got to his feet. “Come on, we can go and have a drink while we’re waiting for Mansell and Riley to get back.”

Startled, Joe wavered. “But we’re on a duty…”

“Well then we can get a coke or something, come on.”

Confused, Joe was about to protest again, but Miles was already heading towards the door leaving Joe to chase after him. He realised part way through the door that whatever it was Miles had to say, he didn’t want to talk about it in the workplace. That meant, whatever it was bothering Kent it was most likely personal.

He stopped, hesitating, one hand was on the door ready to follow his sergeant, but Joe forced himself to hang back and carefully consider this. Was it really his place to get involved in the private matters of his team? A brief memory of the fight in the incident room a few months ago between Mansell and Kent was enough to convince him. Picking up the pace to catch up with Miles, Joe followed him round the corner to the nearby pub.

Miles said nothing until they were sitting down with their drinks nestled between their fingers. He encouraged Joe to take a sip of his tonic water before he began. “Kent put in the papers for a transfer.”

Choking on the tonic water he’d been in the middle of swallowing, Joe spluttered into his napkin, coughing back the discomfort as he fixed his sergeant and friend, with a look of alarm. “What do you mean he put in for a transfer? He can’t just leave in the middle of an investigation! And he can’t just leave the team on a whim! Is he moving? Is something wrong with his family?”

Shaking his head, Miles handed him his own napkin, looking only a little alarmed by the reaction. It was as if he’d been expecting it.

“Calm down. I told him he needs his superior officer to sign off on the transfer, and that’s you.” He eyed Joe firmly, “and judging by your reaction he hasn’t actually spoken with you about it yet.” Sitting back, Miles took a sip of his own coke, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I don’t understand.” Still trying to process this very sudden piece of news, Joe pushed his drink aside. “Why would he want to leave the department? He always seemed to enjoy the work, and I thought this business with Mansell was done?”

Dropping his eyes back down to meet Joe’s, Miles nodded in surprise. “Oh, it is, I don’t think this is about that. However…” He tapped at the table, “Has he really been enjoying it so much lately. Ever since the Kray investigation the kid’s been a little off… I didn’t really want to push him at the time, but perhaps we should have addressed that earlier. Traumatic thing like that needs to be treated properly.”

“The striping?” Inhaling deeply, Joe did his best to push down that memory. It had been such a vicious attack, and Kent had been in crutches for weeks afterwards. Joe wasn’t an idiot; he knew that the ordeal had been traumatic for the younger man. It had frightened him so much that he’d held his tongue while Joe more or less accused him of being a mole for the gangsters, rather than confess he’d been at the station when the office had been raided.

Miles seemed to be going along with his train of thought because he gave a soft hum and caught Joe’s attention. “Since then he’s been more desperate to please you than ever, and you’ve responded often with dismissal or even impatience. Kent got worse, and you got worse, until it got to the point where I wanted to clip the both of you around the ear.” Tilting his head in the gesture of apology when Joe gave him a small glance at this comment, he continued. “I’m not a psychiatrist, I don’t know why the two of you started behaving this way after the Kray case, but I would advise that the two of you sort it out.”

Giving one final attempt to defend himself, feeling rather like a scolded child, Joe mumbled while fiddling with the corners of the beer mat. “It’s not like Kent is the only person I’ve been hard on; I’ve been strict with you and Mansell.”

“Yes” Miles consented, “But Kent is the only person you’ve criticised for actually doing his job.”

The weight of Miles’ words was disturbed somewhat by the buzzing of his phone. Mansell and Riley had returned, and Stratton had returned for further questioning.

\-------

“Look I didn’t kill her!” Stratton was shaking his head furiously now. This time they’d taken him into the more secure interview room. His hands were uncuffed for now, but Joe felt it would only be a matter of time before they were reading Harry Stratton his rights.

Miles leaned forward, eyeing Stratton with his most piercing gaze. “As far as we know, you were the last person to see Sharon alive, and we have witnesses willing to state in a court of law that you were jealous and abusive towards your girlfriend.”

Stratton shook his head again. “No! Look, I admit I grabbed her that one time and I shouldn’t have, but that’s the only time and I felt so awful about it afterwards. I know she wouldn’t cheat on me; I just sometimes get so frustrated when I see her flirting with other guys. I didn’t kill her; you have to believe me!”

They didn’t have all the evidence yet, but it was not looking good.

“Harry Stratton I am arresting you on the suspicion of murdering Sharon Templeton. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

That was done, but the case was still far from over. They needed to properly identify his connection with Jenny Stillwell and identify if he had an alibi for the night of the first murder. But it was getting late, they start digging through the footage and confirming witness statements tomorrow morning. Joe felt they could all benefit from an early night.

Collecting his things from the office, Joe smiled as Riley wished him and the others well before hurrying off to enjoy an early night with her kids.

Miles was right. He and Kent needed to sort this out. They’d allowed themselves to fall into an unhealthy trend with no clear reason, and it was just going to continue until they acknowledged it. He’d ask Kent to stay back for a chat, or better yet, maybe they could go somewhere, remove the professionalism from the air.

However, by the time he’d collected his things and was ready to leave his office, the younger man had already gone.

“Jesus, I’m nearly the last out” Mansell chuckled, “That’s a first.”

Tomorrow then. He’d talk to Kent tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

The young man was lying on his back, his wrists painfully bruised and a scarf pulled tight around his neck. He was dead, and Llewelyn was confident that the cause of death had been strangulation like the other victims.

However, everything else about this case was different to the first two. The first two victims had been women, strangled in their own apartments with a pair of tights, this man had been forced into an abandoned building and strangled with a tough looking silk scarf on a filthy, abandoned mattress. It was possible that this case wasn’t related to theirs, it might just be a coincidence, in which case they could hand it over to the regular Soho detectives.

However, if this man was their third victim then that meant they’d been wrong about the boyfriend, he’d been locked in a cell back in the station all night, there was no way he could have done this.

Backing away from the scene, leaving Miles to discuss the details with Llewelyn, Joe returned to the perimeter where most of his other officers were working to keep the curious crowd back. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the press arrived, and he was keen to avoid them at all costs.

“Riley.” Catching his only female detective he ushered her to the side, away from the prying ears of the crowd. “I need you, Mansell and Kent to find out who this man is and if he has any connection to The Emerald Rooms.”

She must have detected his stress, because she gave him a quick and reassuring nod, followed by a small sympathetic smile. “Yes sir.”

Of all the people on his team, Riley was the one that he’d spoken to the least. There was no personal reason for it, in fact Joe actually considered her to be one of the easiest people to get on with on the team, she never gave him any stress and she did her best to help maintain peace in the office. Perhaps he really had been letting things slip away from him when it came to balancing a harmonious team. All he did was scold Mansell, he hardly ever spoke to Riley, and Kent… well… that was a mess that needed to be sorted out.

He watched as Riley hurried over to where the two younger DCs were standing, relaying his instructions as they began to discuss the best way to go about carrying them out.

“Standing out here by yourself?” Turning at Miles’ friendly tone, Joe flicked the corner of his lips up into a small smile.

“I’ve sent Riley, Mansell and Kent off on some reconnaissance to see if this victim is tied to the first two” Joe explained. “If we’re wrong about Harry Stratton that means the killer is still out there, and he isn’t limiting himself to just women.”

Miles nodded unhappily. “Llewelyn said the victim is remarkably similar to the girls, same sort of age, cause of death was strangulation and no signs of sexual assault. This time the victim put up more of a fight, hence the bruising to his wrists; there’s also bruising to his head suggesting he was hit with something to incapacitate him while the strangulation was taking place.

“Poor man.”

He felt bad for all of the victims, but Joe knew he couldn’t let himself become distracted by that. He couldn’t get emotional, he had to remain focused, follow the clues and see where they led.

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast before heading back to the station.” Miles pressed a firm but kind hand on his arm. The older man knew that this crime scene was getting to him, everything about it was dirty, and the smell of uncollected binbags and urine was almost enough to make him gag. He’d only managed to hold on this long because of how focused he’d been on the idea that the murderer was still at large.

Hoping that a quick breakfast would help him feel better, Joe agreed, hoping that it wouldn’t take his constables too long to track down the information they needed.

\------

Joe and Miles arrived back at the station first. Miles had been right; he did feel a lot better now he’d had something to eat and was back in the familiar and predictable confines of the precinct. They found Ed hovering in the incident room, examining the notes on the whiteboard. He turned to greet them with a nod.

“I heard you found another body?”

“Possible body” Miles corrected him, “Victim this time was male, strangled with a scarf.”

Ed hummed; he must have heard as much as the news didn’t surprise him. “I heard this poor soul was found in an abandoned building… it is entirely possible that this is another killer, but…” He tilted his head to one side, “The Blackout Ripper occasionally used silk scarfs to murder his victims as well… but they were all female, and as you’ve already said, these victims were not sexually assaulted.”

“Should we remove a sexual motivation from our profile?” If this did turn out to be another victim then they needed to start thinking differently, this was what they needed Ed for, to help guide them on the right path at crucial moments like this.

The shorter man turned his head sharply in alarm. “I couldn’t possibly advise any course of action; I can just tell you what I know. In all the cases I’ve read about, with this sort of strangulation, it always suggests a certain familiarity with or entitlement to the victims, the killer probably considered the act to be a personal one.”

History didn’t have all the answers. No matter how many times they consulted these old cases, it still took time and proper old-fashioned police leg work, leg work Joe was hoping would pay off when Riley and the others returned.

As if to reassure him, the phone in his pocket buzzed lightly.

Checking the caller ID, Joe quickly tapped the screen to answer the call.

“Riley?”

“Kent and Mansell are looking into any connections with that club, I can however tell you that his name was Daniel Price, uniform found the lad’s driving licence just a little further down the alley in his wallet. I also spoke with Jenny Stillwell’s friends again. They didn’t know anything about Harry Stratton, but they did tell me that Jenny was often very flirtatious on her nights out and voluntarily brought a lot of men back to her flat.”

A profile of the victims was beginning to emerge. Obviously, this killer was targeting flirtatious young people, potentially using The Emerald Rooms as his hunting ground. Maybe Ed was right, perhaps the killer was punishing them in some way which would explain why they hadn’t actually been assaulted. It was too early to start making guesses, but it at least gave Joe an idea of what to do next.

“Thank you Riley. Get Kent or Mansell to phone as soon as they know anything.”

Moving around Ed, Joe began writing out the new victim’s name on the whiteboard next to the others.

“Both the first two victims were known by their friends to be flirtatious with men, the first victim, Jenny Stillwell regularly slept with different men, whereas Sharon Templeton flirted but as far as we know never actually cheated on her boyfriend. Both were at the Emerald Rooms in Soho the night before they were murdered, so we can assume the killer is choosing his victims here.”

Miles nodded in agreement and Ed leant back against the nearest desk as he considered this new information. “There are some,” the archiver began to speak very carefully, “That believe women… and even men, deserve to be punished for their sexual liberties. It is a little old fashioned…”

“So, we’re looking for someone with old fashioned values then,” Miles hummed. “Some prick who likes to prattle on about the Empire and the good old days when you could hang the criminals in the docks, and women knew their place.” Miles rolled his eyes, his tone laced with sarcasm and disgust. “To find a person like that you’d have to be talking about someone at least in their fifties, late forties at the oldest. But wouldn’t somebody like that stand out like a sore thumb in a nightclub full of young people? We’d have been able to spot him on the CCTV.”

Joe thought about this for a moment, running through all the possibilities. “Maybe a soldier? Or someone brought up with a traditional background, religious perhaps?”

Miles shot him a quick glance, “Nothing wrong with religion provided you keep a healthy perspective.”

Having not intended to offend, Joe raised his hands apologetically.

Odds were that they were looking for someone young, isolated, and disenfranchised from the masses. A person with so-called ‘traditional values’, which could describe a soldier, or someone raised within a restrictive upbringing of some description.

His phone buzzed again; this time Mansell’s name appeared on the ID.

“Meg said she’d called you about his name” were the first words out of Mansell’s mouth, he sounded very giddy and pleased with himself. “This is victim number three, we spoke with his friends, he was at The Emerald Rooms last night and they’d all been quite frequently over the last couple of weeks.”

Beginning to quickly make notes on the whiteboard, Joe shifted the phone between his ear and shoulder to free his hands so he could write more efficiently.

“Did they say anything about his personality? Was he particularly flirtatious at all with women? Men?”

Mansell paused, a little surprised by the question. His voice went quiet and muffled, as if her were conferring with someone else, probably Kent. The younger detective still seemed to be avoiding him, usually Kent would have been the one to call something like this in.

“Yes” Mansell finally answered, “But how did…”

More muffled talking on the other end of the phone, until Joe felt a faint exasperation coming over him.

“Mansell can you just put Kent on please.”

“Oh… don’t want to talk to me sir?” Mansell’s tone was light, but Joe caught the suggestion of a deflection, he knew that Kent didn’t want to talk to him and so Mansell was trying to find a way of distracting him. Great, so now Mansell knew about this whole thing as well. Unintentionally Joe sent an accusatory glare in Ed’s direction, wondering if even he knew. The poor man looked quite startled when Joe’s eyes fell on him, so catching himself quickly, Joe corrected his expression and lifted his hand apologetically.

“I think things could be sorted far more quickly if I could speak with Kent.” Reminding himself to remain calm, Joe waited stubbornly until, finally, the sound of the phone being handed over clattered through the receiver. Before Kent had a chance to address him with that cold and professional tone, Joe started talking. “The victim Kent, his friends said he flirted with people in the club?”

His plan had worked, he’d managed to startle Kent into responding normally, not giving him a chance to adjust personalities. “Uh… yes sir. They said he only occasionally actually showed an interest in anyone, but that he just became a bit flirty after a few drinks. He was gay but would happily flirt with women to.”

Making further notes on the whiteboard, Joe nodded to himself, and feeling struck by an idea he added “Good work Kent, I want all three of you back at the station as soon as possible.” As Kent was in the middle of trying to explain that Mansell had helped him, Joe hung up. He was pleased to see that Miles was giving him an amused but approving look. It had felt good, giving someone praise again, it certainly felt a lot better than shouting at them.

“So, what is our plan going forward?” Miles folded his arms, the hint of amusement following Joe’s phone call still hanging about his face.

With a smile that almost mirrored his friend’s, Joe clapped his hands together. “We’re going undercover.”

\------

His plan had received a mixed reaction once it had been delivered to the rest of the team. Mansell was ecstatic, Miles looked completely shattered by the idea, and Kent was as neutral about this as he had been about everything else the last few days. Apparently Joe’s praise hadn’t been enough to shift him entirely out of this stubborn streak he’d nestled himself into.

“Not to put a damper on your plan sir, but…” Riley pointed around the room, “Most of us aren’t exactly the target demographic of a place like this, we’ll stand out and that might tip the killer off.”

Clearly eager to avoid a night in a crowded and noisy nightclub, Miles practically jumped to support her. “That’s right. If the killer gets suspicious then he could change his pattern, pick a new nightclub and then we’re back to square one.”

While he knew Miles’ motives were not entirely driven for the benefit of the case, Joe realised that they were right, they had to proceed with caution. “Okay Riley, what is the target demographic?”

The constable hummed thoughtfully. “Young graduates, twenty-three to thirty-five years old, well dressed, clearly have money to splash around.”

Mansell, still eager to be involved was almost vibrating on the corner of the desk where he was perching. “That’s me. I’m thirty!”

This earned him a tired glance from Riley. “You are the least convincing graduate in the entire room, and most of us are too old,” she returned her gaze round to Kent, “You’re probably the only one who could actually pull it off.”

A surge of something rose from the base of Joe’s chest, driving him to his feet as he stood by, ready to protest. “We can’t send Kent in on his own.” All eyes in the room swivelled towards him, but Joe stood firm. “We’re talking about a man here who has already killed three people, I’m not putting any officer in danger without back-up.” He nodded towards Mansell, “Mansell is going with him.”

The look of joy returning to Mansell’s eyes was quickly snuffed out by Miles, who shook his own head. “Riley’s right, Mansell will not be able to blend in a place like that, and the last time he was taken undercover in a club he started a fist fight.” Joe watched tentatively as Miles gave him a quick look up and down, “You’re what? Thirty-three, thirty-four? After Kent you’re probably the next closest thing we have.”

No.

Why was Miles dropping him in this? The other man knew how much he hated clubs and considering how awkward were between him and Kent at the moment wasn’t this just asking for trouble. Miles however, remained unaffected by his desperate look, turning away as if everything had been settled.

“We know that the killer targets flirtatious patrons. What I suggest is that Kent, you draw the killer’s attention and the boss can keep an eye out, check and see if anyone is paying too much attention or looks like they stand out at all.” Miles gave Kent a steady look, “You okay with that?”

Joe felt Kent’s eyes dart towards him for a moment, but he didn’t return the glance, keeping his own eyes fixed on the floor. He was panicking and absolutely furious with Miles for dropping him into this situation in the first place.

“Yeah skip, I think I can manage it.”

He didn’t like the plan, but as he couldn’t think of a professional reason to oppose it, Joe knew that he’d have to keep his mouth shut. Kent had consented, meaning the only person standing in the way of what would very likely be a successful operation was him.

“Fine” he agreed, “But not tonight, we’ll need time to clear things with health and safety and get clearance. Tomorrow.” He could feel the stress building, and a small part of him knew that he was about to do something stupid, but the part of him that was currently driving the itchy feeling that was creeping along his skin was overpowering. “Kent a word.”

Getting to his feet Joe moved swiftly into his office without looking back at any of them. He knew that Miles would tell him off later, but he wasn’t thinking clearly.

The idea of being in that nightclub around all those sweaty people while loud music pounded in his ears was stressful, but more than that Joe found himself wracked with nerves over the idea of Kent being put in such a vulnerable position. The younger man clearly wasn’t thinking straight at the moment, hell, Joe knew that he himself wasn’t thinking straight at the moment either, and that could result in one of them getting into serious trouble while undercover like this.

“Sir?” Kent stepped into the office, making a clear effort to leave the door behind him open. Joe motioned for him to close it.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” Shifting his stapler from one side of the desk to the other, Joe decided on reflection that it was better placed in its original spot and moved it back again.

Kent hadn’t spoken, but the look of alarm on his face told him that his words had registered.

“About the transfer” he clarified.

Joe watched as Kent’s face melted first into relief, then realisation, before blending into something that could only be described as frustration. “Skip told you about that?”

Deciding to neither confirm nor deny this, Joe pushed on. “Why? Is this because of the trouble with Mansell?” Miles had already dismissed this as a cause, and honestly by this point Joe knew it was probably something to do with him.

“What? No. Everything with me and Mansell is sorted, I just… I just need a change that’s all.” He was avoiding eye contact the way he always did when he was lying about something. Kent lied frequently enough for Joe to be able to spot the tell-tale signs, and he was grateful that the younger man had never actually been particularly good at it.

Taking a deep breath, Joe did his best to collect himself before beginning. “I know that over this past year I may have been… unfairly hard on you, perhaps not all my criticisms were beyond reproach. But… you are a valued part of this team and have a promising career ahead of you. I apologise if I have made you feel otherwise.”

Kent listened, his face turning a little paler as the mask he’d been wearing started to drop ever so slightly, splintering until Joe could see the more effected and emotional man beneath. “Sir it’s… it’s nothing you’ve done either. This is all on me, but…” he swallowed, finally looking up to meet Joe’s blue-eyed gaze with his own shade of green. Joe had never actually noticed the colour before. “…thank you, that means a lot. I know I’ve been difficult to work with sometimes and I get too personal about the cases. You were right to correct my judgement when it needed correcting.” He managed a small smile, “I’ll get the transfer papers to you once we finish this case.”

There was nothing more that Joe could think of to say, and Kent was already turning to go. Before he could think of asking the other man to wait, the door to the office had clicked closed behind him.

The stress about the nightclub and case had vanished at some point during their conversation, but despite how well their conversation had gone, Joe still felt himself at a loss. He’d done everything right, he hadn’t lost his temper, he’d apologised, but Kent was still leaving. If anything, it sounded like Joe had given him the final push to actually follow through with this stupid plan.

He waited for a full ten minutes, waited for Miles to push through his door and ask for a rundown on what had happened, but his sergeant never appeared. Joe spent the remainder of the day filling and emailing forms to get their uncover operation approved of in time for tomorrow night. At one point Riley did come in to bring him some tea and ask if there was anything she could get him, but Joe simply thanked her for the drink and reassured her that he was fine and managing.

It was dark when someone else finally knocked on his door. Having lost track of time, Joe glanced down at his watch to see that it was half-seven in the evening, at least an hour after their shift had ended. Who was still here?

“Come in.”

A uniformed officer that he didn’t recognise was standing in the doorway. “There’s a Miss Erika Kent here to see you.”

Kent’s sister? Confused and bewildered, Joe grabbed his coat and hurried out from behind his desk to go and greet her in the reception area. She was leaning against the sergeant’s desk, drumming her fingers along it in an uneven rhythm. Joe instantly could detect every way in which Erika differed from her brother, while at the same time picking up every little twitch or detail that made them almost identical.

“Ah” she smiled when she saw him, “You’re Joseph Chandler right? Kent’s boss?”

Holding out his hand so he could shake hers, he did his best to smile and nod, noting with relief that she seemed to practise proper nail hygiene. “I think Mansell’s gone home I’m afraid if you’re looking for…”

Erika shook her head, “No, I’m here to see you. Drink?”

One of the ways she was most definitely not her brother, was in her forwardness.

“What?”

She smiled at this, a bubble of laughter rising up through her chest. “I’m asking you to go for a drink with me, I’ve got things I need to discuss with you.”

Knowing that this might have something to do with Kent, Joe found he couldn’t really refuse. He’d never spoken with Erika before. She had been pointed out to him once by Miles at Ed’s book signing event, but they hadn’t seen one another or spoken since. He was just as much a stranger to her as she was to him, the only thing they had in common were Mansell and Kent, and he doubted this had anything to do with her boyfriend.

So, for the second time that week, Joe found himself sitting in a pub waiting to hear about Kent. It wasn’t professional, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel personally invested and responsible now for everything that was going on.

Erika dropped a white wine down in front of him with a grin and a comment about how ‘Em said you were a wine drinker’. She slipped into the seat opposite with her own beer and wasted no time in getting to the point. “Em is being an idiot.”

Well they already agreed on that.

“I know something is wrong with him, but he won’t tell me what it is. What’s worse, I know Fin knows and he won’t tell me, says it’s ‘lad stuff’ or whatever.” She fixed Joe with eyes the exact same shade as Kent’s and took a long drink from her pint glass. “So, do you know anything? You’re the one he has to ask about a transfer right?”

Confessing to the truth Joe shook his head. “I tried to ask him, but he said it was something personal and as his boss it wouldn’t have been right for me to…”

Erika snorted. “So, you’re just his boss then? That’s it?”

Feeling rather put on the spot, Joe gaped at her for a moment. “Well…”

He felt his face beginning to heat up when Erika fixed him with a smirk that far too perfectly mirrored the ones Miles gave him, usually before pushing him into asking a girl for her phone number. Jesus Christ, the more he looked the more he started to see Miles’ aged face staring back at him.

She waved her hand. “Look, I’m not here to pry. But you need to know, Em has a tendency to overreact a lot and when he does he makes all these assumptions about things that aren’t necessarily true.” She finished the rest of her pint in one dramatic gulp before checking her watch. “I have to go, but a word of advice. My brother is a lovable overly dramatic idiot, best if you need him to understand something you just tell him in really simple plain English.”

With a final grin and a farewell, she sauntered out of the pub, leaving him with her empty glass and his untouched house white.

Just tell him in plain English… just the simple facts.

It was at that moment Joe realised that he had no idea what the simple facts between them were.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” It seemed a little late for Miles to suddenly decide he was worried about him, but Joe appreciated the gesture, nevertheless. He’d thought everything over last night after his conversation with Erika but had yet to come to a proper conclusion. However, he’d calmed down enough to recognise that Miles was right, they couldn’t risk this killer getting away, and he certainly couldn’t rely on someone like Mansell to keep an eye on Kent properly. This was the best course of action.

He was sitting in the back of a parked taxi with Miles in the front seat. At no point would the sergeant be any further than fifty meters from the club, with Riley, Mansell and an army of uniformed officers patrolling the perimeter.

Kent was sitting in the seat beside him looking a little better dressed than he did on a regular night out. His overall appearance was still casual, but rather than the usual death metal or punk band design, he was wearing a simple white shirt with a black jacket thrown over his shoulders. The dark jeans were the only part of Kent’s attire that Joe recognised from the other nights out he’d had with the team.

Having no idea what to wear, Joe had simply allowed Riley to pick for him. He trusted her to have a vague idea of what he should wear, and she wouldn’t put him in anything ridiculous like Mansell. Perhaps he would have been better off asking Kent, after all, he was the only one of them that had actually already been to the club. Still, he was fairly certain he didn’t stand out too much. Short-sleeved button-down white shirt and slack black trousers that he had insisted on rather than squeezing into the tight looking jeans that Riley had suggested as an alternative.

“Sir?”

Remembering that Miles had just asked him a question, Joe nodded. “Yes. Right, let’s just go through the plan one more time.”

It was of paramount importance that they were all on the same page, if anything went wrong tonight they would either lose the killer or put Kent, or one of the other officers, in serious danger.

“Once we’re in the club I’ll try and attract the killer’s attention” Kent began, pointing to himself, “The boss will be hanging back to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious who fits our profile. If at any point we’re concerned about our safety we radio for back up. Exactly where Kent was hiding his radio in that incredibly tight outfit of his Joe didn’t know, his own was sitting snuggly at the bottom of his trouser pocket.

“If we do mark anyone as suspicious we radio it in when they leave the club with a description so that uniform around the perimeter can identify them” Joe added. His nerves were starting to mix with the excitement that they might finally catch a killer alive. They just had to keep things calm and follow procedure, no chases through wall interiors, no swan dives off buildings, just plain and simple police work.

Exchanging a small glance with Kent to make sure the other man was ready, Joe pushed open the door and stepped out onto the street. Things were already starting to get fairly busy, but hopefully to everybody else they just looked like two normal guys getting out of the back of a taxi before a night out.

The club itself was almost blinding. Unlike the dark flashing basements, he’d been dragged into for the sake of previous investigations. This dark room was bathed in a luminous green glow, with small circular wooden tables straddling both sides of the dancefloor, accompanied by their own sets of green velvet chairs. Riley had been right; this place was definitely more highbrow than the establishments that Mansell most likely frequented.

The music, however, was just like every other nightclub he’d ever been in, loud and unpleasant.

It looked like the place was already packed with patrons jumping up and down on the dancefloor or making attempts to shout over the music as they gathered in groups around the tables.

Both of them knew it was pointless trying to talk over the noise. Joe felt a finger tap twice against his arm, the touch was light, just enough for Joe to pick up on its presence. He looked up at Kent who was nodding his head to indicate he was about to go and mingle, but as he pulled away Joe felt an incredibly bizarre and very unprofessional urge to pull him back. He fought it, rooting his feet to the ground as he watched Kent go, only moving when he realised he’d have to do so in order to keep his DC in sight.

While it would be great to catch the killer tonight, Kent’s safety was his priority. No matter what he wasn’t taking any risks with this one.

Finding a corner near the tables where he had a good view of the entire room, Joe leaned back, hoping he was obscured enough by the shadows to avoid anyone’s notice.

When Kent had said ‘mingling’, Joe had kind of imagined that the younger man might build up slowly, work his way around the room over the course of the next few hours. However, what he had not predicted was the amount of attention that Kent received practically the moment he stepped into view.

In the past Joe had only vaguely contemplated Kent’s looks, they worked together after all, anything else would have been inappropriate. The only reason he was even aware of the other man’s appearance in the first place was because of the comment Miles had made a few months ago at Ed’s party.

_“You might try your luck over there.”_

He claimed to be talking about Erika, but Joe couldn’t deny that on Miles’ comment his focus had zeroed in on her brother. Of course, he’d recoiled from the thought immediately, demanding to know what Miles was implying, but the thought of it had just stayed with him.

First the impossibility of it all had struck him. Kent was his employee, his young and very easily influenced employee. Joe had never actually asked Kent how old he was, but at the very least there had to be seven years between them. He knew the statistics. A couple with a five-year age gap were 18% more likely than another couple to separate, and those with a ten-year age gap were 39% more likely. The two of them fell within that age range, therefore statistically it just didn’t make sense. Even with all that set aside, dating between the ranks had always been frowned upon. It would be a mess with HR.

Besides, no matter what Miles kept trying to prove, Joe was perfectly happy as he was. Miles was his friend, so was Ed, and he occasionally spent time after work with the rest of his team. He was content without a partner of any description in his life.

That was what he’d told himself when he’d first started worrying about what Miles might have been suggesting. He’d gone over those ideas in his head for weeks until he was absolutely satisfied and secure in the knowledge that he had absolutely no interest in Kent beyond that of a mentor and mentee. And that was when he’d let his guard down.

He’d started to notice little things at a time. The way Kent stayed back to clean the office so he didn’t have to, even after their arguments the younger man could still be spotted restlessly sweeping the rubbish off Mansell’s desk into the nearest bin. He’d watched with amazement during the day as Kent sped from place to place during an investigation, energetic and eager. And yes, he knew that Kent was attractive, denying it outright would have been far more suspicious than simply accepting it. But, until this moment he’d never realised just how attractive Kent might appear to other people.

He took a deep breath and managed to keep his cool when a pretty blonde girl and her dark haired friend sauntered up to Kent and asked him to dance with them, he even managed to maintain his composure when a large looking guy who might actually have been even older than himself bought Kent a drink. Then he saw it, that look, the one Kent had used to give him when they’d first started working together. The look that had always made Joe feel several feet higher and more confident with every breath. Only this time it was not aimed at him, it was aimed at every guy who so much as asked Kent the time of day.

One guy in particular was bothering him. A man he estimated to be between twenty-eight and thirty-two, tall and dark haired with an unpleasant bushy beard. Over the heads of the bobbing crowd Joe could clearly make out the hand the other man had on Kent’s hip and the force with which he was applying it as Kent was obviously making an effort to extract himself.

Alarm bells rang in Joe’s head, and before he could properly think about what he was doing he’d crossed the dancefloor and pulled the other man’s hand away, standing like a solid wall between him and the undercover constable.

“Dude what’s your problem?” The other man laughed, clearly trying to pass the whole thing off as a joke.

Before Joe had the chance to reply, Kent’s slim hand had tightened around his wrist and started pulling him through the crowd. Eyes still narrowed over his shoulder at the man with a beard, Joe didn’t really take in what was happening until Kent had pulled him through a set of doors and out into one of the quieter corridors that led up to the bathrooms.

“Sir.” The word was spoken like a reprimand. Kent’s eyes were blown open with exasperation. He released his hold on Joe’s wrist motioning wordlessly in the air in front of him, as if he weren’t quite sure how to begin. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “Sir, I was fine, you didn’t need to step in like that.”

The dawning realisation of what he’d done was just beginning to drop. “You were trying to get away from him, I saw…”

“I know” Kent cut him off, “But I had it under control!” The pitch of his voice was starting to strain from annoyed to angry. “You don’t trust me to do this, but I can. I’m a detective and I spend a lot of time in places like this, do you really think I can’t handle myself with one dimwit who’s getting a bit too handsy!?”

Joe had seen Kent angry before, but he’d never been on the receiving end of it, and he had to admit that it was a lot more intensive than he’d assumed when mulling over Kent’s arguments with Mansell.

“I know you can handle yourself.” That wasn’t strictly speaking the truth, and it certainly wasn’t what Joe had been thinking when he’d pushed his way through the crowd. “I just…” He knew that Kent was waiting on his reply, arms folded and eyes reflecting a look of such anguish and pain that it hit Joe like a train when he realised how Kent had interpreted his actions. A lack of faith. It was what this all came back to.

“Kent… I do trust you, and I know what a capable detective you are. Without all the work you put in we’d never get anything done; I probably would have given up on this team years ago.” Of course, he knew that Miles was there to support him, but no one, not even Miles himself could deny that he was getting older and the job was starting to weigh on him far more heavily than it had done when Joe had first arrived on the team.

A silence lulled between them, and the anger and defiance on Kent’s face began to melt into sad exhaustion.

“Kent…”

The sound of a door opening down the hall caused them both to startle, pressing back against the wall to allow a gaggle of twenty-something women squeeze down the hallway from the bathrooms back in the direction of the main floor.

They both waited until the door had swung closed again before Joe made another attempt to speak.

“Please tell me… is this the reason why you put in for a transfer?”

The fight was gone from the other man, a sigh escaping his lips as he nodded his head. “It was one of the reasons, but not the main one” he confessed. “I just… I can’t work with you any more sir, eventually I’m going to make a mistake… and I’ll ruin everything. Just…” He must have seen the pain reflected in Joe’s eyes because he turned his head away again. “Just trust me on this last case, please.”

What could he really say to that? He’d been right, he was the reason why Kent had put in for a transfer. Somehow he’d managed to take a promising young detective and twist him up into such a state that he could barely stand to look his commanding officer in the eye.

“Okay.” The least he could give Kent right now was the chance to prove himself.

The younger man nodded, taking a deep breath before he suddenly untucked his shirt and began fussing with the material until it was crumpled. Joe watched in confusion, as Kent began running his fingers backwards through his curly hair. He caught Joe staring and flushed. “We need to maintain our cover, you just pulled me off the dancefloor like a jealous boyfriend, so we might as well go with it.”

All the blood in Joe’s body rushed to his face, and he opened his mouth to stammer out a defence he hadn’t really thought through yet, but it went entirely ignored by Kent who flashed his commanding officer a glance and a quick apology before rolling onto the balls of his feet and locking his fingers through Joe’s own carefully combed blonde hair.

It should have been unpleasant, and if anyone else had done so then it would have been. But having Kent so close and feeling the care and nerves in those shaking fingers as they carefully swept along his temples, he couldn’t help but lean into it. He didn’t even notice the fingers on the buttons of his shirt until Kent had pulled back and he realised that the top buttons had been fixed in the wrong holes. The front of his own shirt had also been pulled free from his belt, leaving both of them in a very dishevelled state.

“You can clean yourself up once enough people have seen you” Kent told him; his tone oddly breathless as he took a quick step back to reassert the distance between them. He nodded towards the door, “You go first.”

They hadn’t done anything, Joe knew he had no reason to feel ashamed, and he certainly didn’t have a reason to feel proud of himself, but feeling the weight of those eyes on him as he re-entered the club caused both those emotions to spring right to the surface. He made sure to fire a particularly strong glance in the direction of the beard guy as he returned to his surveillance point.

True to his word, Kent appeared a few seconds later looking a little shifty but pleased with himself. The perfect expression of a man who had just been ravaged by his lover minutes before. Joe watched as he returned to his previous crowd to laugh and spin some story about what had happened.

“And there I was thinking I might have to call the police.” Jumping, Joe turned in surprise to see Lisa, the friend of Sharon Templeton they’d interviewed only a few days ago. She grinned, putting up her hands to show she meant no actual offence. “Relax, I spotted you and pretty boy there and assumed you were undercover. I thought you’d arrested Harry?”

“It’s not him” Joe replied stiffly, finally allowing his glance to slip from Kent to focus on the other people standing around in the club, keeping a keen eye out for anybody who might be their mark.

Lisa clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Well… even if that is the case, he’s still a bastard who didn’t deserve her.” Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw the woman tilt her head to one side in amusement. “Honestly, standing there watching the poor lad, you really did look like a stalker. Following your little performance there I think everyone now just thinks you’re some possessive and jealous boyfriend, truly could have given Harry a run for his money there.”

Humming in acknowledgement of this, Joe continued to search the room. He didn’t really want to engage with Lisa, she was a friend of one of the murdered victims after all, and he was supposed to be working.

She seemed to get the message because she laughed a little at his dismissal. “Well I’ll leave the two of you to it,” a small frown disrupted her amusement momentarily, “Just find the guy who did it okay?” Lisa didn’t wait for him to reply, she simply slipped back into the crowd again.

A man. Joe refocused, terrified for a moment that he’d lost him or been seen. But no… there was a man, someone who stood out in the crowd, and judging by the way he was standing Joe would have hazard a guess at military, perhaps ex-military. He couldn’t have been more than a couple of years below or over thirty, clean shaven and standing apart from the rest of the crowd just like Joe was doing himself, simply watching the room… no… he was watching Kent.

Joe watched carefully as Kent manoeuvred his way around to another group of people, the other man’s gaze had tracked Kent’s movements as well. No, worse than that he was starting to move, making his way through the crowd towards him.

Moving as discretely as he could, Joe followed the man’s movements, finding a space just near enough to the activity to get a clear idea of what was about to happen while still keeping his distance.

The man was smiling in a way that practically screamed ‘creep’, reaching out a hand to grab Kent’s wrist.

If it weren’t for the promise he’d made earlier Joe knew he would have stepped in immediately, but he reminded himself that Kent needed trust right now. He had to trust that Kent knew how to handle himself.

Eyes shooting up to the other man’s face, Kent yanked his arm back, but he wasn’t able to dislodge the grip. Words were exchanged between them, words Joe couldn’t hear over the music, but Kent didn’t look at all concerned, laughing, and shaking his head. The man tugged his wrist harder, and this time when Kent drew away he managed to break free. Something akin to “what’s your problem mate” passed through his lips and when the other man made a lunge for him again, Kent slipped to the side, fixing a death grip around the wrist that had been making a grab for him. Kent and the strange man were now standing with a small circle around them, Kent had the man’s arm pinned painfully behind his back. He muttered something in the man’s ear then pushed him away, releasing the hold.

A couple of people clapped, and Joe was almost tempted to join in when Kent’s eyes met his through the crowd. The younger man looked flushed, but incredibly pleased with himself, that eager energy and the thrill of a job well done, it was all back.

Knowing that he had to find some way of communicating his suspicions to Kent and radioing in the man’s description, Joe allowed himself to slip into the role he was supposed to be playing.

“Are you okay?” He knew that Kent had seen him holding back allowing him to handle the situation by himself. The man Joe chose to present himself as now, was the role of the worried boyfriend who had only just arrived at the scene.

“Yeah I’m fine” Kent played along quite happily, meeting Joe’s eyes with a look he now realised was far more intense than the artificial glances he’d been giving to those other men. It was a look reserved for him Joe realised, and unlike the doubting man he’d been when Miles had pointed in Kent’s direction at Ed’s book launch, he had absolutely no misgivings in admitting to himself how much he loved it.

Lifting the wrist, the man had grabbed, Joe examined it for any damage. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He nodded towards the door leading to the hallway in front of the bathrooms, knowing that Kent would understand what he was trying to say.

Allowing Joe to lead him back to the hall, Kent waited until they were out of sight before putting some distance between them again. “You’re thinking that’s our guy?”

Pulling his radio from his pocket Joe nodded. “We hang around here a little longer, then we see if he follows you out. There will be eyes on you at all time.” This was the part of the plan Joe was the least sure of, even though he knew every precaution was being taken, this was usually the moment where everything went wrong.

Sending through the message along the radio, the two detectives between them gave the most accurate and detailed description they could manage.

“You did well out there.” They knew they had to return to the club, even if it was only for a little while, but before they went Joe really wanted Kent to know that no matter what happened next he really was impressed.

“Well” Kent chuckled a little at this, “It’s not like he’s the first guy I’ve ever come across who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.” The comment was almost playful, and just like that he was gone, leaving Joe to mull this new piece of information over in his head.

Where Kent was concerned Joe was beginning to realise he was well and truly stuck.


	6. Chapter 6

Watching Kent leave the club alone was nerve-wracking, but Joe knew he had to wait at least a few minutes before following the other man out. Kent had already told him clearly which route he was going to follow and promised that he’d walk slowly so that he’d be easy to find again.

Counting out two minutes on his watch, Joe decided that was quite enough time and emerged through the club entrance himself, making a sharp left turn as he pulled his radio out to keep track of the investigation.

“Eyes on Kent?” He checked.

“He just rounded the corner from my point” Mansell responded, “I can see someone approaching… Tall… wearing a jacket and… Oh it’s you sir.”

Shooting Mansell, a glare as he passed him, Joe rounded the corner as casually as he could manage. He could see Kent a way ahead, hands stuffed into his pockets as he ambled down the street.

“All okay?” Miles radioed in, “I have Kleenex in the car if you’d prefer to wait this one out.” No doubt his sergeant had been worrying about the state he might be in after having spent several hours in a nightclub. But, while Joe was looking forward to a good shower when he got home, he didn’t actually feel the pressing need to clean himself immediately. The thrill of the chase and his worry about Kent seemed to be driving him forward now.

“I’m okay, following on foot, and…” He stopped speaking immediately, stuffing the radio back into his pocket and drawing back. Another figure had joined the street from a side-alley. It was difficult to tell from this distance if the figure were the one from the club, but Joe could make out their voice clearly. They didn’t appear to have noticed him at all.

“Hey, you!”

Kent stopped, and Joe could see the tension of his shoulders braced against the younger man’s silhouette, illuminated by the dull streetlamp.

“You know what you are” the man was snarling, “a fucking tease and a slut!”

Pulling out his radio, Joe hissed down the line as loudly as he dared. “Support, I need support now!”

Breaking free from the shadows where he was hidden, Joe emerged just in time to see Kent being thrown backwards by his attacker. Driven by adrenaline and panic, Joe tackled the other man, throwing him away from Kent with a furious yell of pain as they both hit the filthy ground with a sickening crash.

Certain that he’d scuffed his knee and bruised his elbow, Joe continued to pin the man beneath him.

It was the guy from the club, the one that looked like a soldier, and he was now glaring at Joe with burning fury. Something flashed in his hand, but before Joe had the chance to react, or the man had the chance to act, Kent had slammed the heel of his shoe down on the other man’s hand. Something clattered to the ground, and the man let out a cry of pain giving Joe the chance he needed to get the upper hand.

Uniform were with them in seconds, Mansell, and Riley close behind with a pair of handcuffs at the ready.

Searching the deep pockets of the man’s coat, uniform produced both a scarf and a pair of tights, evidently their man hadn’t decided on his method yet, but this was all the evidence they needed to put a solid stamp on this case.

With their suspect now firmly in the hands of the other officers, Joe turned back to Kent who was leaning against a nearby wall, a little rattled but still standing and thankfully uninjured.

“Sorry about that.” Fearing the filth, Joe didn’t join Kent against the wall, but he hovered nearby. “Apparently I can’t always be content to hang back when some big hulking brute attacks you.”

He earned a small smile and a chuckle for this.

Kent took a deep breath and then released it. “It’s quite alright sir, help isn’t always unwelcome.”

“You okay Kent?” Mansell and Riley joined them, the latter placing a hand around Kent’s upper arm as if to steady him. “We didn’t think the bastard would have a knife.”

Glancing down in the gutter, Joe caught the glimmer of the blade that had been pulled on him, realising that was the glint he’d seen and the sound he’d heard after Kent had grinded his heel into the killer’s hand. Poor Miles would be stressed out of his mind when he heard how close Joe had gotten to being stabbed. But no harm done. Everyone was still alive, and nobody was leaving the scene in an ambulance. That was a win in and of itself.

Catching Kent’s eye again, Joe caught a faint shy smile, before the younger man went back to reassuring Riley that he was fine as she fussed around him.

Joe knew there was more he wanted to say, but he also recognised that now was not the time to do it. They still had work to do, and a criminal to return _safely_ to the station.

“Well I hear congratulations are in order” he met with Miles on his way back to the main street where they’d first arrived. Eyeing this comment with caution and suspicion, Joe waited for his sergeant to clarify. “Catching the killer, I mean, sounds like you and Kent did some great work.” Fairly certain by the smile that Miles was giving him that he was implying something entirely different, Joe decided to ignore it.

“Yes, uniform found a scarf and a pair of tights in his pockets, so either this is the most unfortunate coincidence in a lifetime, or we have our man.”

“The lad okay?” Miles checked, “He put himself at real risk to help us bring this one in.”

“I know that.” Pausing in mid-step, Joe closed his eyes trying not to imagine all the awful things that could have gone wrong tonight. “And yes, he’s fine… he did really well.”

With that smile still plastered to his face Miles hummed thoughtfully, “perhaps you ought to tell him that yourself.”

Startling a little, Joe turned sharply towards the older man. He could only feign ignorance for so long, and Miles had been making it exceedingly difficult lately. “Look if you’re implying…”

Miles raised his hands. “I’m not implying anything,” he raised an eyebrow, “If you think that praising your constable for doing a job well done is _implying_ something then I think that might be your problem.”

Not this time, Joe was not letting him off so easily this time.

“The whole thing is… _would be_ entirely inappropriate.” He corrected himself quickly. “I’m his superior officer and I’m… me. Miles I can’t do relationships you’ve seen that.” He kept his voice low, ensuring that the other officers milling around them wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

For a moment Joe thought Miles was going to press him again, but this time he only raised an eyebrow. The smile had dropped, being replaced by a much softer look of sympathy, and understanding. “Officers have been getting into relationships with their senior officers since the police were founded, sure it might take a bit of sorting with HR, but trust me on this, they’re used to it.” He patted Joe’s arm gently, “and as for the other thing. Apart from me, who knows you better than Kent. The kid has been copying you since you first arrived in the station, and if I know anything about that lad his patience could rival Greyfriars Bobby.”

Caught in the middle of a protest, Joe was stopped by Miles’ final comment, blinking at him in confusion.

“Greyfriars Bobby” Miles repeated, “You know the little dog who waited on his master’s… oh never mind.” He shook his head quickly, “The point is sir, the two of you need to talk, and, if you don’t want to face that then… you’ll have to let the kid go. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Nodding slowly, Joe pressed the palm of his hand against the ridge of his stressed brow, eyes squeezed tightly closed.

“Not tonight.” Managing to collect himself, Joe opened his eyes again. “Tomorrow.”

Miles nodded. “Probably for the best, just don’t leave it too long.”

Emotions were running too high at the moment, and with everything beginning to slow down again Joe was becoming very aware of how much he wanted that shower. He needed to think about all this with a clear head, make a sensible informed decision based on what was best for both him and Kent.

Seeing their suspect safely loaded into the back of the police van and having given orders to contact him when the van arrived safely at the station, Joe happily accepted the offer of a lift home from Riley. Kent had already left with Mansell and Miles had to return the taxi to the station.

“Long night” Riley commented from the driver’s seat, keeping her eyes fixed to the road as she drove steadily along the river back in the direction of Whitechapel. “I cannot wait to collapse into bed, what about you sir?”

Checking his watch, Joe noted that it was nearly four in the morning. “Yes” he answered a little awkwardly, reminded again of the fact that he hadn’t spoken a lot with Riley about anything non-work related. “Fingers crossed that this one makes it to trial.”

“We’ve all got our fingers crossed sir” Riley told him with a smile, crossing her own fingers over the steering wheel.

A short lull fell between them. Joe could sense that Riley was attempting to pluck up the nerve to say something to him. He waited, unsure as to whether he wanted to hear it or not but promising himself that no matter what it was he wouldn’t lose his temper or get defensive about it.

“Is it true that Kent is thinking of transferring?”

That wasn’t one of the questions he’d been expecting, but he realised that the rumour must have gotten around by now, secrets never stayed secrets long in a police station.

“Yes. He told me that he’d stay until the end of the case.” And here they were. The suspect had been arrested, and no doubt it would only be a matter of time before his guilt was confirmed. There must have been something in his tone that or expression that caught Riley’s attention, because she took her eyes off the road for just a split second to glance over at him.

There was a pause again, another stillness while Riley mustered her courage to respond.

“I don’t think Kent really wants to transfer sir… I think he just feels trapped.” She spoke with far too much knowledge, and Joe was reminded of those looks she and Mansell had shared outside the flat of the second victim. They all knew something, something they were dancing around, and Joe got the impression that even Miles hadn’t been entirely honest with him.

He knew he’d have to take that final step himself.

“Is Kent in love with me?”

The car gave a violent little hiccup of alarm as Riley’s foot slipped off the accelerator before righting itself again. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again. “I… I really don’t think it’s my place to speak for… o-or speculate.” They were approaching Joe’s apartment building now. Riley had gone quite pale, her hands fixed stiffly on the wheel and eyes glued on the road.

Not wanted to risk an accident, Joe waited until she’d pulled over before he spoke again.

“Riley” he coaxed gently, “I need to know… is he in love with me? Is that the reason why he’s applying for a transfer?”

The poor woman looked like she was about to cry, but very, very slowly her head began to nod. “Don’t be cross with him sir, you can’t really help these things. I was sort of hoping he’d just move past it eventually, but Mansell says he’s been pining after you since the end of the Kray case and…” She closed her mouth abruptly again, looking horrified at what she’d just said, most likely because she’d just revealed Mansell’s involvement in the whole affair. “I mean… oh Lord…”

Worried about stressing her any further, Joe spoke up quickly. “I’m not angry with anyone, I just needed to know that’s all.”

Riley looked a little less anxious at this reassurance, but her eyes were still quivering nervously. “Please don’t tell him I told you.”

“I won’t.”

He could tell that Riley wasn’t entirely convinced by this, but she gave him a small and shaky smile, wishing him a good night as he left her car.

Kent had been in love with him since the end of the Kray case…. Oddly enough, Joe had imagined that it might have been longer than that, but then again love was such a strong word, surely it took time for such an emotion to truly manifest.

He’d never been entirely certain of course, not until this moment, but there were times where Joe had found himself unable to explain Kent’s irrational dislike of the women he’d been interested in, or the reason why despite all the times Joe had criticised and scolded him, Kent only persisted in his eagerness to impress him.

Now everything made sense.

Not that he condoned Kent’s jealousy, but at least he now understood it, and could appreciate the effort Kent must have gone to in correcting his behaviour over the past few months. But during that time, he must have come to the decision that Joe was never going to return his feelings. Unable to give them up himself he’d decided that the only way around it was to apply for a transfer.

Erika was right, Kent really did have the tendency to overreact and assume things that weren’t true.

Reaching the front door to the apartment building, Joe buzzed himself in with his key.

Knowing what he needed to do tomorrow, Joe turned his attention for now on the warm shower he was promising himself and the alluring depths of a good night’s sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The prisoner, a man identified by his fingerprints and military record as Martin Jones, was found hanging in his cell the following morning. The news was waiting for Joe when he arrived in the office. Even before Miles had even had the chance to mention it, he’d already known that something bad was happening based on how many officers there were running around the station.

“How did it happen?” Folding his hands together, Joe pressed the thumbs of each corresponding hand to his temples. What part of regulation had they missed this time, what had they failed to predict?

“He used the sleeves of his own jacket” Miles confessed tentatively, his expression wary, preparing for the fallout that the news would bring.

The last thing Joe could confess to being in this situation was pleased, but… they had gotten the right man, and with every new failing they identified another flaw. No more jackets permitted in the cells; police regulated clothes only.

“Next time sir, we’ll do it next time.”

The older man flinched, actually flinched when Joe finally looked up at him. Were his officers, even Miles, really this terrified of his reaction at the end of every case. No wonder the tension in this place had been forced to breaking point.

Very carefully, Joe nodded. “Yeah. In the meantime, I’d like a full investigation into what happened in the cells, we don’t want anything like this happening again.” He twitched his lip up into a disappointed but hopeful smile, pleased to see after a moment of contemplation that Miles returned it.

“I’ll get right on that” Miles promised, rising to his feet, ready to return to the office.

Clearing his throat, Joe felt instantly guilty when Miles froze in his tracks, immediately tense again.

“Oh, for God’s sake I’m fine Miles,” rolling his eyes, Joe tutted in fond amusement. “I just wanted to ask if you could send Kent in here to see me.”

Finally relaxing his shoulders Miles laughed. “Sorry, we’re all usually a little jumpy after something like this, good to see you’re taking it so well.” He ran a hand through his whitening hair, “Just don’t bottle it up for our sake, you know I’m always here if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

Sighing with exasperation at Miles’ gentle teasing, Joe nodded towards the door. He was hoping that Miles would be able to retrieve Kent without any sly remarks about it. Thankfully, his sergeant left the room, closing the door behind him.

The door remained closed for exactly thirty-eight seconds, before a cautious knock sounded against the glass.

“Come in” Joe called out, adjusting himself slightly on his seat as Kent slipped around the door, the younger man’s expression was a conflicted combination of concern for his boss’ mental state and worry over his own position.

Motioning for Kent to take a seat, Joe did his best to appear relaxed and in control. He really didn’t want to have this conversation while Kent was eyeing him like a man being slowly backed towards the edge of a cliff.

Before Joe could even open his mouth, Kent had started babbling.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Jones sir, but I’m sure we’ll get the next one, and we’ll make sure that we have someone from the team watching at all times. I promise sir, we’re all just as disappointed as you and we’ll make sure the next one is a win for you!” He hadn’t taken up the offer of a seat and was instead pacing nervously up and down the office, hand running through his hair, face stark white and pale.

Half getting up from his own seat, Joe wavered a hand in Kent’s direction trying to urge him to sit down. The pacing was starting to make him nervous.

“I know. Kent it’s okay, please just sit down and…” Something suddenly occurred to him. “Wait, did you say ‘we’?”

If Kent was going to stay then Joe didn’t want the reason to be accredited to some sense of misplaced guilt.

Thankfully, this time Kent listened to him, easing his slim figure slowly into the seat opposite Joe’s own. He still looked nervous, but at least he was making the effort to sit still.

“Kent…” he cleared his throat, “Emerson there is nothing I want more than you to stay working as a part of the team, but I want it to be because _you_ want to be here. I’m in charge of the team, and any failings are my responsibility.” He sensed that Kent was about to interrupt so quickly held up a hand to stop him. “I will ensure that things are better monitored next time, and if you want to be a part of the team when I do that then nothing would please me more. However, if you choose to leave, if you think you’ll be happier elsewhere then we will manage without you.”

Joe waited, watching his words sink in. He saw Kent swallow, gaze dropping down into his lap as he thought all this over.

“I…” The younger man sighed, distress tightening the corners of his face, lower lip clenched between his teeth. “I love working here sir. I love the cases, our team, and I love working with you sir… but I…” His voice was becoming strained, green eyes dashing between his lap and Joe’s patient gaze. “I…”

Knowing the place this conversation was trying to go and recognising that perhaps it wasn’t best addressed inside his office in the Whitechapel police station, Joe reached very cautiously across the desk to touch the top of one of Kent’s tightened fists, which were resting against the smooth wooden surface. He felt the other man flinch, but it caught his attention. “Perhaps we could discuss this further over a drink after work?” He suggested.

No sooner had the words left his lips, Joe felt his confidence beginning to drain. What if he’d read this all wrong, what if the others had read this all wrong? What if Kent was disgusted? What if he was frightened by the advance? What if…

“Yes.” Kent was blinking at him as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “The… the shift finishes at six right?”

Joe nodded dumbly, feeling like a complete fool as he opened his mouth to say something only to find that he’d forgotten how to formulate words.

“Then… I’ll look forward to it.” Still looking bewildered and confused by the whole situation Kent rose to his feet without being dismissed and wandered hazily out of the door back to his desk.

Before his door swung closed again, Joe caught the glances exchanged between Riley and Mansell.

Never in his life had he ever imagined that his relationship with someone might actually become the talk of the office.

He spent the day being as professional and patient with his team as possible, helping to formulate the incident report, and gathering together the file they had on Jones to be submitted to his superiors. The Soho precinct was furious and sent someone down to shout at him, but Joe remained calm. Mostly because he could see Miles pacing like a bulldog waiting for any sign of distress before pouncing.

The day was long, but they all got on with it, until finally the hands of the clock met their mark, signalling the end of the shift.

Despite everyone in the office probably having some idea of what was happening, Joe felt he would prefer it if the rest of them all left quickly so he wouldn’t have to deal with the staring eyes following him and Kent leaving together.

Thankfully, by some miracle, everyone seemed to have places to be, even Ed, who had come up to help them out with the last of the paperwork, remarked loudly that he’d promised to meet up with a friend and needed to get going. In fact, the only sign at all that anyone had taken note of something happening was the small wink Miles gave him as he collected his coat from the back of his chair.

“So…” As soon as they were the only ones left, Joe forced himself to speak. “The usual place okay?”

The pub round the corner was the regular haunt of the Whitechapel detectives, but even as he said it, Joe realised that considering what he wanted to say that probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Or… or we could go somewhere different?” Feeling like an awkward teenager he flashed his car keys, “I can drive.” He left the question lingering in the air, knowing that Kent would understand the reason the two options were being offered to him.

Shifting his jacket over his shoulders, Kent swept a stray curl behind his ear. “Somewhere different would be nice, if that’s okay with you sir.”

Yep they’d definitely have to do away with that for tonight. “It’s a casual drink, you can call me Joe… if that doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

What the others in the office had been expecting Joe wasn’t sure, but he was fairly certain that all their imaginings didn’t involve the two of them standing around in the office awkwardly asking each other questions.

Taking it as a promising sign when Kent’s cheeks darkened, Joe allowed a little confidence to edge back into his system as he motioned towards the door, waiting for Kent to catch up with him by the steps before continuing out into the hallway.

“Then… Emerson. It’s kind of weird me calling you by your first name and you still calling me Kent.”

“Emerson then” Joe agreed. He’d heard Mansell and Riley calling the younger officer by his first name before, but it was going to take a little adjustment to remember not to use his surname.

Reaching his car, Joe instinctively went round to hold the passenger door open, earning a surprised and bashful look from Emerson as he thanked Joe for the gesture and eased himself into the seat. Embarrassed all over again, Joe closed the door smoothly and circled the car to reach the driver’s side.

“There’s a place not far from where I live, it’s a little more expensive but I’ll buy the first round, I did invite you out after all.” Heart hammering in his chest, Joe went through each manual procedure of starting the car in painstaking detail.

Foot down on the clutch, turn the key, foot balanced on the accelerator, wait for the revs, remove the handbrake. Usually he did all this instinctively, but as he was very aware huge parts of his brain were distracted with thoughts of the man sitting in the passenger seat beside him, Joe thought it was better to be on the safe side.

It was only a ten-minute drive, and Joe knew a good place to park around the back that tourists often missed.

For once luck seemed to be on his side, it was a quiet night with only a few of the regulars dotted about here and there. Spying a quiet corner near the back, Joe made a beeline for it, folding his coat neatly over the back of one of the chairs.

“What can I get you?” He asked Emerson, who had followed his lead, dropping his own jacket over the back of his own chair.

“Pint’s fine, thank you” he replied, settling down while Joe went to the bar to order their drinks.

Placing the pint glass down in front of Emerson, Joe eased himself down into his own seat, a large glass of Pinot Grigio balanced between his fingers.

“You asked me out for a drink once didn’t you?” Joe wasn’t sure why he’d chosen those as his first words, but they’d escaped his lips before he could think of anything better, so he decided to roll with it. “After the cult case, before everything went wrong.” Caught in the drama and anger of the moment Joe had completely forgotten about Emerson’s invitation, and the other man had never mentioned it again.

Nursing his drink, Emerson took a small sip and nodded.

“Why?”

Spluttering, the younger man startled, placing a hand on his chest as he attempted to clear his throat. It took a moment for him to collect himself, but when he did, Joe was surprised by the way Emerson immediately lifted his green-eyed gaze to meet Joe’s own. There was no accusation in his look, no expectation, but there was a firmness to it that Joe had not seen before. ‘ _This is your last chance_ ’ it seemed to be saying. “Do you really not know?”

Emerson was challenging him, daring him to deny it. The pair of them had beaten about the bush for too long already, there was no time for delicacy or restraint.

“I know.” With a sigh Joe surrendered, “I didn’t really realise until recently, but…” he swallowed, debating over whether he should use Riley’s words. “You’re in… you like me.” It wasn’t a question, both of them knew it to be true, they also both recognised the stumble Joe had taken. Joe appreciated that Emerson let him have that one without commenting on it.

Emerson nodded his head, taking a long drink this time from his beer glass. “I do.” Reminded suddenly of Erika’s directness, Joe began to ponder that he may have misjudged how similar to two twins were. “That’s why I wanted to transfer. My _feelings_ have disrupted our cases too many times. I don’t expect you to return them sir… Joe…” The younger man’s face turned a darker shade of red at the use of Joe’s name. “I don’t imagine that you’ll even contemplate them, but… I can’t help how I feel, and being around you every day it’s…” He shook his head looking so utterly distressed by the thought that Joe knew what he meant without him even having to say it.

He had to intervene before Emerson ran himself into the ground. Reaching forward, just as he’d done back in his office that morning, he placed his own hand over the back of Emerson’s smaller one, appreciating again how well-kept the fingers beneath his palm had been maintained. The touch had the desired effect, Emerson stopped speaking, staring at their interlocked hands with confusion.

“Emerson I almost disrupted our entire case in that club because I couldn’t stand the sight of you being touched by someone else… Ever since the Kray case when you were… attacked, I think a small part of me knew how I felt. I was so angry…” Chuckling a little at the memory, Joe sought out Emerson’s gaze, grinning at the sight of the other man’s disbelief. “You know I got into the boxing ring with Jimmy Kray, Miles was furious with me.”

Feeling a rush of reassurance when Emerson finally cracked a smile at that, Joe continued.

“I didn’t even realise what I was starting to feel, but somewhere my head must have rejected the idea and it started to lash out… lash out at you.” He shook his head slowly, the taste of the Pinot Grigio and regret bitter in his throat. “It wasn’t fair of me, and I don’t deserve your patience or admiration.”

The fingers of Emerson’s free hand brushed against his cheek, startling him a little as the touch burned and crackled against his skin. He allowed the younger man to nudge his head into the correct angle, eyelashes fluttering closed as Emerson’s lips brushed softly against his own, a feather light touch that was gone before Joe had a chance to engage.

“I know you aren’t perfect” Emerson told him gently, “and you know that I’m far from perfect, but I do like you… I like you a lot.”

Deciding to take the initiative himself, Joe removed his dominant hand from Emerson’s, raising it to cradle the side of the other man’s face as he tilted it carefully to an angle that mirrored his own. He’d never taken the lead in a kiss before, and it took him a few moments to find the right position, but as always Emerson was patient, following Joe’s clumsy lead.

The kiss lasted longer but remained chaste. The two of them had taken a big step today, and despite the growing urge building in the pit of his stomach, Joe was determined not to mess this up. These things did not come easily, and he didn’t want to force himself to move too quickly and risk making either of them uncomfortable as a result.

“Perhaps we could have dinner this weekend?” Leaving his hand braced against the side of Emerson’s face, Joe drew back. “I could pick you up at seven on Saturday?”

“Sounds good.” Emerson’s smile was warm and bright, a look of adoration that was meant only for him.


End file.
